Dear to my brother's heart....

Dear to my brother's heart were warmth, comfort and regular meals. Our small family of three have kept true to his maxim by beginning the preparations for autumn and winter. The larder is full of the gardens bounteous produce in the form of pickles, preserves and jams; the process of making sloe gin has begun, the cold box in the garage has been packed with the most delicious of concoctions, as well as a glut of pears, some apples and more. The chimney is swept in preparation, all manner of laundering undertaken and the last few days of truly warm weather allowed to blow its warmth through our home before we begin the slow but steady onslaught of autumn and winter weather. The nights have begun to draw in and the windows are shuttered for the night as early as seven o'clock.

The garden has truly taken on the air of autumn, with early mists and the smell of autumn leaves and bonfires. My guardians have cleared an overgrown bed in the front garden in preparation for newer planting. My brother's grave is beautifully tended and I spend time daily appraising him of our endeavours for I am sure he keeps a watchful eye upon our efforts and, one can only hope, wholeheartedly approves.

Time passes....

Time has passed in the blink of an eye. My heart broken guardians buried my dear brother in a favourite spot in his beloved sanctuary garden where his spirit is free to roam. We are bereft, devoid of his peaceful calm demeanour and comforting presence. His soul mingles with those left behind, to comfort us with memories of happier times. I am lost without him, and find myself waiting in the belief he will appear, only to remember he has gone. Home is where we find our solace and comfort in knowing he is here with us.

My lady guardian firmly believes in the words of Anatole France, "Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened."

My darling brother.....

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.
                                           Mary Elizabeth Fry

My darling brother died yesterday in the arms of his beloved lady guardian. He had crept quietly in to her life and wrapped his soul around her heart and head, as I strode wilfully t'ward our male guardian. Oh what sorrow. A gentle, peaceful, more loving gentleman, one could not find. My poor lady guardian is calm but truly devastated, they shared a bond that saw female and feline live as one; where she went, he would follow, as one. Such a chasm that I will endeavour to fill for all of us. 
Goodbye little man, man of peace. Gone but never forgotten.

Here is autumn.....

Well my dears, autumn has announced itself in the most ardent of fashions with the recent spell of inclement weather. The temperature has begun to drop overnight and in the morn one can feel the cool fingers of autumn feeling it's way toward us. The breeze has turned the corner away from us and the wind has taken its place. One can still feel the dying embers of summer but the autumn door is widening. Not yet, dear friends, is it time to light those fires, for there is more to come. The apple harvest has begun and the leaves of our neighbours fine pear tree are turning the most becoming shades to herald the new season.

I am most fortunate to tell you that my beloved brother continues to enjoy his food and the comfort of his warm bed. He still undertakes his perambulation about the sanctuary garden, albeit at a much slower pace and not always every day, some days being better than others. He has become particularly fond of the comfort of closeness to our guardians and thus spends many a night lain across the top of the pillows on which they rest their heads. Here he can feel the warmth and love from them without the risk of a nudge by an errant limb. They, for their part, find great comfort in absorbing the gentlest of purring amidst their slumbers and dreams, as in the words of Shakespeare "such stuff as dreams are made on" and great comfort to all parties. I, for my part, find much joy in absorbing these scenes to store in my memory for eternity. 

Another weekend....

Another weekend and my darling brother holds his own. He has particularly enjoyed the most amazing of summer days today, venturing out to sit with my guardians and I in the sanctuary garden. The bluest of blue skies, with the busy sound of harvest on the air. Here in the sanctuary garden all was calm and peaceful, enjoying the quiet of the day spent with those we love, my male guardian perusing the broadsheets, my female guardian working a woolen garment for the winter months, my brother and I sat with them enjoying the warmth of the sun warming our bones. Truly a delightful day, one such as memories are made of.

As I write this.......

As I write this missive, my brother is ensconsed upon the garden bench enjoying the fresh smells of a rain drenched garden. He continues to hold his own, enjoy his food and slowly potters about the sanctuary garden. Much care and attention is paid to his every requirement, even the addition of midnight snacks on demand.

Much to my consternation, my brothers requirement of regular meals and snacks has had a somewhat alarming result on my own physique. I perhaps carry the, ahem, odd pound more than I did. Alas, one simply must be the perfect hostess therefore I am required to join my brother at meal and snack times, to keep him company, you understand. Dear friends, this is of no consequence in the face of my brothers health and I will bear it stoically, as does he.

The sanctuary garden is looking particularly delightful,  for my guardians toiled long and hard yester morn and afternoon to bring the boundaries and hedgerows to their current crisp state in preparation for autumn. My lady guardian was particularly delighted with a most useful piece of machinery light enough for her to wield throughout the day without the requirement of my male guardians might for assistance that he had purchased for her. Thus they were employed in joint toil mowing and trimming the sanctuary garden in to its current fine state for the delectation of my brother as he enjoys the air. Long may he do so.

Time waits for no one....

Time is passing by and my beloved brother, whilst growing weaker, holds his own. His food is enjoyed, as is time quietly spent in the sanctuary garden upon the bench, feeling the breeze upon his face and listening to the quiet business of country sounds. Many a rest period is taken when he quietly takes himself of for a nap and most importantly says his good nights to my guardians with time spent at the foot of the bed, whilst he waits for their slumber, then quietly takes himself to the comfort of his bed. Much joy and comfort is taken everyday that we all have together and great care to ensure his every requirement. Long may he remain in comfort with us, those who love him, for he is our darling boy.